As prelude to my latest set of State Senate primary endorsements, I’d like to rehash some history.
We who do not learn the lesson of history are doomed to repeat them, so I’ve cobbled to together some relevant history from my archives. If it seems like you’ve read it before, it’s because you have.
But you need to read it again.
It is a long and painful read about a long and painful roller coaster ride forced upon us by Joe Bruno, Dean Skelos, Tom Golisano, Steve Pigeon, Carl Kruger, Pedro Espada, Ruben Diaz and Hiram Monserrate.
The time has come to mete out appropriate punishment. For these antics.
In an April 2006 thread on Daily Politics I can no longer locate, I was the first NYC blogger to warn of a phenomena then largely dismissed by others as paranoia.
On October 22, 2007, in a piece entitled “Ihe Joe Bruno Democrats,” I explicated further:
Here are some of the relevant excerpts:
"The Senate Republican majority is doomed in the long-term unless they find a way to corral some non-Republicans into either switching parties or voting with them to organize. This has now been their long-range strategy for many years. They find "Democrats In Name Only" and run them in prohibitively Democratic districts, so they can hold them in reserve in case the Dems ever take the majority…
Example #3: Get Pedro Espada to change parties while maintaining his Democratic enrollment so he can still run in the Democratic Primary. The Democrats actually stopped this one by beating Bruno at his own game by running DINO Ruben Diaz. Diaz, Espada; both have Jewish messiahs, but one follows Jesus and the other Fred Newman.
Example #4: Woo Diaz. That'll teach 'em.
Example #7: Get Democratic Assemblyman Joe Robach to switch parties and run for the Senate. This was abetted by Shelly Silver, who was glad to have Robach gone.
Example #8: Run Noach Dear in the Democratic Primary against divided black opposition. Tried it three times, would have done it a fourth, but Dear (he hopes) got a job that doesn’t require commuting….
Example #10: Get political transsexual Tony Herbert, already surgically remade as a Republican, to pretend to have his Democratic credential reattached, and run him against Velmanette Montgomery.
Rule of thumb: not every primary to a Senate Democratic incumbents stems from Bruno, and some of the Senate Democrats may even deserve primaries, especially the one(s?) owned by Bruno, but, generally, if there's talk of giving a Senate Dem a primary, one should at the very least go hunting for the man behind the curtain.
Example #11: Carl Kruger; already bought and paid for, many times over, but like a case of the clap… Kruger is the gift that keeps on giving. Worth an article all his own; will get one soon.
Example #12: Woo Hiram Monserrate and attend his fundraiser. This is being aided and abetted by John Sabini and Jack Daniels. Sabini may end up the only person in his immigrant heavy district unable to get a driver’s license. Does Sabini really have a drinking problem? Have you any idea who he’s dated?"
Although we lost Joe Bruno sometime in 2008, the Bruno Dems scenario continued to play out as I’d predicted. The only real change was that the Bruno Dems became the "Doghouse Democrats," in honor of the English translation of the last name of the new Senate Republican Leader, Dean Skelos.
Anyway, on September 5 of that year, I wrote:
"Already, two Democratic State Senator, Ruben Diaz and Carl Kruger, have refused to commit their votes to whoever is chosen to be put up for Senate Majority Leader by the Senate’s Democratic Conference; Kruger even accepted a leadership position from the Senate Republicans. At least one incoming member, Hiram Monserrate, has, in the past, played footsie with former Senate Republican Leader Joe Bruno, and another possible Senate Democratic Candidate, former State Senator Pedro Espada, has caucused with the Republicans in the past…."
On September 7th of that year, I reiterated this point:
"It’s been clear that the Republican plan is to take the Majority Leadership whether they have the majority or not. Already, two Senate Dems (Carl Kruger and Ruben Diaz) have refused to commit to support the Democratic candidate for leader (whoever they may be)."
Further the primaries feature candidates who’ve also refused to commit (Kendall Stewart), have conferenced with the Republicans previously (Pedro Espada)…, have previously flirted with the Senate Republicans (Hiram Monserrate)…"
The assertions about Monseratte inspired some contention:
"oh please stop pushing this monseratte as a crypto-republican line. even if you see him as craven, what future could he possibly have siding with the republicans? he'll be one of the most reliable votes and outspoken voices we'll have in the chamber."
To which I responded: "I'm not pushing a line about Monserrate, I'm just stating a fact. I hope you are right."
When I did an article that year pointing out the failure of Republicans to run local candidates, I took note that among those who had no GOP challenger were Kruger, Diaz and Espada. Why run a cow when you’re already getting the milk for free (or in Kruger’s case, for a big lulu and a few hundred grand in member items)?
But chastened by the criticism I’d gotten, I failed to note they’d also taken a dive on Monserrate.
Yes, Governor Paterson, who’d eased out Monserrate’s opponent, incumbent John Sabini, by giving him a job, had earlier made a job offer to Darrel Aubertine, the Senate Democrat with the seat most likely to go Republican in the event of a vacancy, and had also appeared on Joe Robach’s radio show; and yes, the Queens Democratic Organization had a history of taking dives in State Senate races.
But the Queens Organization held a controlling interest in Senate Dem Leader Malcolm Smith and thought greed was good; and Paterson might have never seen the rain, but was still a weatherman who knew which way the wind blows. Sabini, who just copped a plea on a driving while impaired (only a violation; his real crime was being a politically weak white Senator in a Minority District) seemed vulnerable, so their efforts to ease out Sabina in favor of Monserrate looked merely to be smart politics which ensured that the mercurial Monserrate was down with the program. To be clear, I think that was actually what they intended.
But, on October 28, 2008, Liz Benjamin reported that Espada, Kruger, Diaz and Monserrate had set up an "independent caucus" hoping to capitalize on their status as potential state Senate kingmakers. "Maybe it’s four or five", said Espada, "that could be decisive on many issues." Espada also hinted at worse, "the potential for one or two others that I can’t stipulate to right now."
At the time, it was hard to see what these "Independents" had in common. Kruger was a political animal both cold blooded and hot tempered, who swung to the moderate right and liked to play Super Jew, while Espada, who liked to flail to the far left, was an associate of the psychotic and anti-Semitic Newman-Fulani cult. Espada once lost his seat to Diaz, a member of the Christian Right on social issues like abortion and sexual orientation, but a left populist on economics. By contrast, Monserrate, an ex-cop, was a wild card, seemingly more interested in bloviation than ideological consistency (not that the two were necessarily incompatible).
The only thing all shared is a fondness for perks and member items, in all but Kruger‘s case usually going to groups they personally controlled; in fact, Espada had once been indicted for such things (and is now being investigated for them again, and is already the subject of a civil case brought by the State AG).
According to Espada, the purpose of creating an independent caucus was to bring to an end what he called the "dysfunctionality and polarization" in Albany. But these guys weren't really interested in ending dysfunctionality and polarization, what they were interested in was creating dysfunctional and polarization and then exploiting them for personal and political gain (to be fair, Diaz, though interested in money and power, also has an ideological axe to grind, but given the ideology, I could not say that that was really an improvement).
I had no problem with this Gang of Four Horsemen of the Preposterous forming an internal bloc within the conference and taking sides in any leadership battle; given the numbnuts who first ended up as leader, such doings may actually have been merited . My only proviso was that what happened in the conference, should have stayed in the conference. Instead, the Four Horsemen went and told Sollozo what they were thinking and took sides against The Family.
Where I come from, those who engage in such conduct end up sleeping with the fish, rather than leaving with the cannolis. But, in the State Senate, they eventually ended up with the best cuts of the meat pie.
Sure nuff, after the election, the Four Horsemen rallied their forced to facilitate gridlock. True to his character, which exemplified the type of cowardess emblematic of bullies, Monserrate was the first who jumped ship and returned to the fold, while the others held out for greater rewards.
In recognition of the change in alliance, I marked them down from “The Four Horsemen of the Preposterous," and renamed them "Carl and the Passions" (in memory of what is arguably the worst album ever issued by the Beach Boys while they were still trying). When it came to loyalty to their political party, the theme song of the Passions was not “Be True to Your School,” but rather “I Get Around.”
I held no particular brief for Senate Minority Leader Malcolm Smith, the worst Senate Democratic Leader ever (quite an achievement, when your predecessor was David Paterson), but, for whatever reasons, Smith was the choice of his Conference by an overwhelming margin, and therefore, he deserved the support of all Senate Democrats when the Senate organized.
The Passions had other ideas.
The saddest thing about the Passions’ self aggrandizing and largely successful effort to make the last session of the New York State Senate about them (and them alone) was that their dragging in the issue of gay marriage may have actually elevated the debate (although at the same time sinking it to a new low).
The Passions’ initial cover story for refusing to support the choice of their Conference concerned "work[ing] together actively to promote a unified vision to support the needs of their diverse communities in the upcoming legislative session," and "working to insure that, in these difficult economic times, state government can function efficiently to protect the concerns of all New Yorkers."
No one sane (or even the loony cult Espada associated with) believed a word, unless the definition of "support[ing] the needs of their diverse communities" was defined solely to mean member items for one’s own districts. As to ensuring the efficient function of government in difficult times, the nature of our fiscal crisis seemed to those conspirators a fortuitous bonus–something which could be used as a wedge to leverage others into giving in to their demands.
More credible were the Passions’ plans to "work together and speak with a strong and cohesive post-partisan voice." Well, maybe "post-partisan" is inexact; more like a "pre-Hobbesian state of nature" where roving bands of nomads formed momentary alliances of convenience, but essentially, it was every caveman for himself. Still, the essential point about getting beyond parties, which were, after-all, semi-coherent groups organized around a commonly held system of belief, would seem to have been accurate.
For all the smoke and mirrors concerning their efforts being about the need for bipartisanship in a time of crisis, few then pointed out that the bi-partisan nature of what was then the NYS status quo, which Carl and company ostensibly sought to keep in place, was directly responsible for much of the Albany phenomena Espada called "dysfunctionality and polarization" which led the State into its crisis in the first place. But, nonetheless, the meaningless rhetoric about the utopia of bi-partisanship continued unabated.
"Nationally", proclaimed the Passions’ PR Strumpet, Juda Engelmayer, (who should really stick to making bagels), "we are experiencing, in the face of uncertainty, a unique moment of both hope and opportunity. Now is the time to return to our core values."
And surely, this was a return to the core values of Carl Kruger and Pedro Espada, who in the face of uncertainty, have always seen their opportunities and took ‘em, much in the manner of George Washington Plunkitt, but without the candor. Nonetheless, one could hardly accuse them of having forsaken their core values, which were mostly a matter of "what’s in it for me?"
As I noted, it became apparent even to the press, that this was not bringing an end to the "dysfunctionality and polarization" in Albany; newer and lamer excuses were concocted; Diaz, who sometimes endorses Republicans, and has done so again this year, expressed outrage that Smith had once done so as well, and Espada, who actually once became a member of the Republican Conference, had the chutzpah to join with Diaz in this critique.
Kruger switched to talking about stopping the left wing agenda of Malcolm Smith, a moderate Democrat who, in the past had sometimes taken the Republican and Conservative Party ballot lines:
"I don't care if we go past the opening of session without a decision," Kruger proclaimed, suddenly abandoning his previously expressed desire to work to ensure that, in these difficult economic times, state government could function efficiently, "Until I am totally satisfied the house will be run differently, that there will be a voice for everyone and not just the left wing of the party, I won't ever, ever, ever succumb."
Of course, this conveniently ignored the fact that Espada had spent his political life associated with the likes of radical cultists Leonora Fulani and Fred Newman, and that his other present or former amigos were either down the line left liberals, or at least were so on the economic and budgetary issues which then seemed likely to be the next legislative session’s main preoccupation, and were.
In fact, Diaz conveniently proved this point by issuing a left-populist critique of Governor Paterson’s proposed budget cuts—he may even have been correct in some of his points.
Then, it stopped being about ideology at all, but about competence, "That’s not necessarily who’s on the right or left; it’s who best can do the job," announced Kruger.
And then, without even acknowledging the contradiction, the elevation of merit above all things magically transformed into an elevation of heritage above all things. "Hispanic Empowerment is the guiding factor," said Kruger; this seemed quite odd, coming, as it did, from someone who may represent the outer-Boroughs’ least Latino constituency, and previously had as much use for affirmative action as he had for a comb.
But despite, the temptation Carl did not change his nickname from "Mengele" to "Torquemada."
The initial antics of the Passions were not about making a Latino the third man in the room, or for that matter about making any other particular individual the third man. Rather, the antics were about being the ones who decided who the third man was. The Passions did not like Malcolm Smith (who could blame them?), but even Smith was a potential victor provided he paid the right price.
As such, The Passions were not, as I had implied in some pieces, Republican shills; the Passions used and abused the Republicans in exactly the same manner in which they used and abused the Democrats. In the end, on the matter of Red versus Blue, the majority of The Passions knew no color but Green.
In a way, this made Ruben Diaz almost refreshing.
There is no doubt that Ruben Diaz shared his fellow conspirators’ hunger for perks, pork and the engorgement to his pinga brought by the ego gratification of being at the center of attention. But, unlike the others, Ruben believed in something larger than his own self- interest.
At the center of Ruben’s beliefs is opposition to same sex marriage. While all of the Passions threatened to put the legislature into an entirely self-generated paralysis, leaving it unable to deal with a fiscal crisis (which the legislature only partially self-generated), at least Ruben, unlike his compatriots, had done so over a matter of principle (or at least partially for those reasons).
But since the Passions could not deliver the leadership to any candidate without Ruben’s cooperation, his priorities have become their priorities. Thus, when Ruben said that a promise not to bring same sex marriage to the Senate floor was part of his price, the others were forced to join his crusade.
His co-conspirators really did not share Ruben’s enthusiasm.
Pedro Espada, who’s long palled around with "Doctor" Fred Newman, a "therapist" who gleefully admits to sleeping with his patients, had forfeited his right to moral outrage about something so boring and conservative as expanding the right to matrimony, and indeed, Espada had long favored same-sex marriage.
As with any issue, Carl Kruger was probably most interested in cost-benefit analysis, which, in this case, meant ascertaining whether the funds he could raise from gay groups would offset any losses from his Orthodox Jewish contributors–although one also got the feeling that, all things being equal, Carl would just as soon have preferred changing the subject.
Holding their noses, Kruger and Espada joined Diaz in opposing any floor vote on same sex marriage, instead proposing a referendum. Despite the lip-smackingly delightful opportunities such a scenario would have undoubtedly afforded in allowing observers the chance to watch some supporters of term limits engage in Yassky-like efforts to explain seemingly contradictory stances about the sacredness of the popular plebiscite, at the time I expressed great outrage over this effort by three petty little thugs to deny the LGBT community the opportunity, afforded to all other citizens, to bring to their elected legislators their concerns in the hopes of having them addressed.
Kruger, Espada and Diaz promised that they would gum up the organization of the Senate unless, among others things, they were given a promise that a law to give state recognition to same sex marriages would not be allowed to come to the floor, even if it had the votes to do so.
But, at least Ruben Diaz was acting out of a sincere but misguided belief in a wrathful God.
By contrast, since he forsook Fred Newman, it was doubtful that Pedro Espada believed in any deity, let alone the God of Wrath.
And , Carl Kruger, though embracing Wrath as an organizing principle (as he does unto others before they do unto him), was impressed only by superior beings he can see with own eyes, and even then, knows that even a County Leader (who he must sometime present with burnt offerings) is not truly omniscient.
But same sex marriage was only a the most disgraceful sideshow to the real deal, and the real deal was made on December 4, 2008, with the Democrats finally assured of control.
One of the most notable details of the deal was that Carl Kruger was to be Chair of the Senate Finance Committee, throwing marginal Upstate Democrat Billy Stokowski (whose local editorial boards were assured by Smith that Billy’s reward and theirs was forthcoming) to the winds.
Even worse, the Majority Leader’s position was to be bifurcated, with Pedro Espada made the Senate’s President Pro Tempore–literally one heartbeat from the Governorship, and Acting Governor every time David Paterson left the state.
The devil was truly in the detail.
Literally.
Then the deal unwound. The crisis of who would lead the new Senate continued up to the date of the vote itself, with a resolution that brought Kruger Finance, but had Espada and Diaz settling for perks, pork and titles that did not come with access to the power to grant pardons. The boys came home with full bellies, but they were still hungry.
Espada had sold his vote for a meaningless Senate Vice Presidency, but it soon became apparent that Smith sold his integrity (such that it was) for a meaningless Senate Presidency.
For instance, Smith could not deliver the votes for any plan to bail out the MTA from its latest financial crisis. The inability, largely through the good offices of Carl and the Passions (with Monserrate now rejoined as first castrato) proved the Senate Democrats controlled the Senate in name only and that, while no faction could muster a Senate Majority, the single largest bloc of votes was controlled by Republican Leader Dean Skelos.
Carl and the Passions all took note.
Before, we continue, we need a little more back story.
As has been proven time and again, there are few things more destructive to the New York State political process than a billionaire scorned.
In 1992, billionaire Ross Perot ran for president and in the process facilitated the entry into the New York political scene of future Deputy Comptroller David Loglisci (pled guilty in the Hevesi scandal), his brother Steve “Chooch” Loglisci and his buddy, Barrett Wissman (unindicted co-conspirator).
In 1994, multi-millionaire egomaniac Thomas Golisano looked in the mirror and concluded he was our own local Ross Perot (perhaps not having noticed that Perot had lost) and decided to buy his way to the governorship by creating a cult of no personality.
The first step was to get on the ballot, not an easy process for an independent statewide candidate unless one was running upon a party line no one worried about, like the Trotskyites. By definition, any time a billionaire runs for office, other candidates are going to worry.
To facilitate his ballot access, Golisano's party, like Perot's before them, recruited the crazed anti-Semitic cult controlled by Fred Newman and Leonora Fulani, in the same manner he recruited most people, he rented them He did so not because he agreed with them on anything, but because they had trained troops and expertise in getting on the ballot.
Fulani and company had started out as pals of Lyndon LaRouche before deciding LaRouche's US Labor Party wasn’t big enough for two Messiahs and forming their own New Alliance Party (NAP) and a business empire of political consultants, psychotherapy and arts programs, among other enterprises, with the common goals of making money, increasing their political influence, abusing children and finding new sex partners.
The Nappies, with their own in-house counsel, cult member Harry Kresky (later a Bloomberg appointee), became experts on ballot access, sometimes filing petitions to run on their own line, and sometimes running in Democratic Primaries.
The Nappies actually had their own Bronx Councilman, Gilberto Gerena-Valentin, during the late 70s, and their party (political) hopping Espada family [now spun out on its own, but still worthy, in every sense, of a Fulani endorsement, which Pedro has again received in his campaign this year] has held multiple offices on and off since the 90s, but mostly the Nappies lost. Nonetheless, they almost always made the ballot and played crucial roles in aiding politicians like Al Sharpton and Frank Barbaro in their ballot-access efforts.
Golisano lost the 94 election, but his party [originally called the “Independence Fusion Party,” but later changed to the more appealing “Independence Party” (IP )], achieved enough votes to earn a line on the ballot. A line on the ballot gives a party the ability to qualify candidates with minimal efforts, and with a name like “Independence”, this meant the ability to attract confused voters, thereby attracting the attention and generosity of the political establishment.
As such, control of the party became a valuable commodity. In 1995, the party’s membership was besieged by perennial candidates like Upper Manhattan’s Harry Fotopolous, independent movements like the Greens, fast buck operators and flakes.
But when you lie down with a bigoted cult, you end up with them controlling your party. The well organized and disciplined Nappies, working together with fast buck opportunist allies who saw a chance at a piece of the pie (current IP Chair Frank McKay among them), eventually achieved control.
Golisano paid little attention; instead he went through denial, but stopped at anger, which he directed mostly at Pataki, whose credentials as a fiscal conservative he regarded as phony. The Nappies feasted off the Golisano gravy train, backing him in again 1998, but eventually George Pataki made them a better offer.
As Governor, Pataki could deliver jobs to cult members and allies, state funding to cult controlled entities, and leverage contributions and business from other sources. McKay and the Nappies abandoned Golisano and prepared to deliver the 2002 IP Gubernatorial nomination to Pataki.
Locally, IP’s support for Mayor Mike, combined with the Pataki gratitude from Albany, yielded State and City financial backing in the millions for the Nappies’ “All-Stars” program (which has been accused in several jurisdictions of emotionally abusing the minors they are supposed to be helping), including mortgage financing via tax free municipal bonds, as well as funding for anti-Semitic theatrical productions, and most shockingly, school based “social therapy” programs run according to the Fed Newman philosophy, which combines extreme left wing ideas with wacko psychiatric theories.
“Social Therapist” Newman believes that it’s all right to have sex with his patients, and also to assign them therapeutic political work. While, in a political context, Newman’s quotes concerning his view of "professional ethics" are probably among his least offensive comments, the fact that he is being given access to young children shocks the conscience, even if everybody keeps their pants on.
And we haven’t even mentioned the large private contributions given or leveraged by the Mayor to the “arts” programs. The Mayor has also appointed Fulani-Newman cultists as members of the City’s Charter Review Commission. By contrast, the non-Fulani types have mostly wet their beaks in obscure state and county level jobs, tucked away where their accumulated efforts have no costs, except to the taxpayers (not that the Nappies didn’t take payroll positions as well).
Faced with the loss of his party nomination, Golisano weighed his options, first considering, then abandoning, the idea of starting a new party, for which he could then obtain enough votes to achieve ballot status, and which he could then lose control of. It was decided instead to muster up the freelance kooks and opportunists who made up the various non-Nappie factions of the party and meld them together using the mucilage of legal tender. Together, this coalition of the unhinged and the avaricious would run a primary against Pataki for the IP nomination.
By now, Golisano’s main campaign operative was Roger Stone, a man once called ‘The State of the Art Washington Sleaze Bag’ by New Republic. Though a Republican, Stone had reasons to hate George Pataki only slightly more petty than those adopted by Al D’Amato for hating Rudy (when there were, in reality, so many better reasons), but even more important was probably the cold hard cash that came along with the job. Besides helping to funnel Republican money to Al Sharpton, Stone is probably most famous for the personal ads run he's run with his wife seeking partners to satisfy their deviant sexual urges, experience which proved useful when, while on the State Senate Republican Campaign Committee payroll, he played a key role in bringing down Eliot Spitzer.
Given that the real goal of the 2002 campaign was not electing Golisano, but rather beating Pataki, for the crime of having shown insufficient respect, most of the rest of the staff were Democrats, including Stone’s cousin, Steve Pigeon, a former Erie County Democratic Chair.
In the language of New Yorkers, Pigeon is defined as “a rat with wings,” which is at least half-correct.
Eventually, after some bad stories appeared about the Nappies, Frank McKay realized that his once valuable ability to sell his line to the highest bidder was going to be considerable less profitable if the line was seen as tainted.
2006 was a Gubernatorial year, and unless the Party achieved 50,000 votes, it would lose its automatic ballot status and essentially go out of existence. If, as then seemed likely, every major party candidate rejected his ballot line, McKay’s charmed existence as a power broker would be yesterday’s news. Hence, he switched sides and began a purge of the Nappies who‘d brought him to power.
McKay’s efforts worked; just as it looked as if this boil on the butt of the state’s body politic was going to be lanced, off to the rescue came Eliot Spitzer and the State’s Democratic leadership, including Hillary and Alan Hevesi, to ensure Frank McKay and his motley crew another four years running their scummy little protection racket.
In a truly emblematic illustration of how the Albany bi-partisan ruling establishment really works, this all inured to the benefit of the Republicans. By taking their line, Spitzer enabled the Independence Party to survive; but he also enable Joe Bruno to survive. Facing a potential blow-out of monumental proportions, Joe Bruno and company were worried that not even the reliable incompetence of David Paterson and friends could save them from the unhappy accident of voters starting at Spitzer and voting straight down the line.
But, thanks to Spitzer and company, the 2006 IP ticket offered voters a ballot line where they could cast their votes for Spitzer, Hillary and Hevesi, and then continue down the line and be able to support every single solitary Senate Republican whose existence might have been threatened by a Democratic landslide, as well as every Senate Republican candidate who had even a theoretical chance of taking a Democratic seat.
That year, and in 2008, the Independence Party became Joe Bruno’s, and then Dean Skelos,’ trump card; a wholly owned subsidiary of the Republican State Senate Campaign Committee (RSSCC), essentially run out of the RSSCC offices, providing Republicans with life jackets to save them from Democratic tsunamis.
The IP yielded further rewards from Bruno, as its Vice Chair and Chief Upstate operative Tom Connally was given a top job on the Bruno-controlled payroll of State Senator Carl Kruger.
As I predicted back in 2006, given their superior organizational skills, and the fact that their members are well programmed pods, the Nappies eventually retook control of the NYC IP. However, the factions remained divided until, in true New York Billionaire Fashion, Mike Bloomberg brokered a truce based upon persuading the factions that what united them (insatiable greed) was greater than what divided them (queuing for the limited spaces at the trough) by assuring and ensuring there would be enough slop for all concerned, at taxpayer expenses if possible, and out of his own pocket, if necessary.
Golisano, however, moved on. Pigeon had found Tom to be one of his namesake, and together they formed “Responsible New York.” This time, perhaps out of outrage towards McKay, Golisano directed his venom at Joe Bruno and his successor, Dean Skelos.
“Responsible New York” expended most of their efforts financing independent expenditures on behalf of Senate Democratic candidates in their targeted races. Some of the money also went elsewhere. A couple of Senate Republicans who had seen fit to kiss the ring Golisano keeps in his back pocket were also so rewarded, as were some Democrats with primaries, including Marty Connor. Money was also expended on Pigeon’s somewhat puzzling series of grudges and alliances in Erie County and nearby turf, helping folks like Pigeon ally County Legislator Tim Kennedy.
How effective were these efforts? Well, most of Pigeon’s allies lost, while Marty Connor was shocked to discover that the mailings produced by “Responsible New York” on his behalf were even worse than the ones produced by his own consultants. But there is no doubt that Malcolm’s Smith’s attitude should have been one of gratitude.
Smith fucked up; big time. At a meeting with Golisano, Smith played with his Blackberry, instead of giving Tom Terrific the undivided attention he had paid for. More defensibly, Smith refused to turn over his western New York office to the care of Pigeon’s flock, instead, in the time honored manner of Majorities and Minorities in both houses, putting it under the supervision of a strong potential candidate who need a job until the next election (who, just to make things more painful, eventually decided not to run).
Golisano was angry. Pigeon was angry. While once basically loyal to the Senate Dems,
Golisano and Pigeon flew the coop (Golisano traveling to Florida) and threw a coup. Roger Stone came to town to lend the effort his immoral support.
Pigeon looked at the Senate and saw discontent. There was music in the Lark Street cafes at night and revolution in the air.
Monserrate, indicted for a violent felony, had been forced to give up the lulu he received for his Committee Chairmanship. Then Kevin Parker was also indicted for a violent felony, but having already spent the lulu, was not forced to return it.
Monserrate was not amused.
Then a member item for an Espada controlled group failed even the olfactory impaired smell test of the Senate Dems. Espada was told he couldn’t have it.
He didn’t get mad, but encouraged by Pigeon and Golisano, Espada and Monserrate got even.
On June 8, 2009, before a vote in which the Dems were set to distribute some new cuts of pork to their members, but give Espada the butt, Espada struck instead.
With important matters crucial to such things as the budget of the City of New York still unresolved, Tom Golisano decided that giving New York the gift that keep on giving called the IP was no longer enough to ensure his legacy, and so now he proved wrong all those cynics who insisted that politics in New York could not get any worse.
Despite the best efforts of Malcolm Smith to bring about Republican control of the State Senate sooner, it took Republican an entire six months to get the deed done, courtesy of their signing the team of Pedro Espada and Hiram Monserrate through their agents Tom and Steve. As a result I redubbed Espada and Monserrate as the “Aztec Two-Step.”
And all of a sudden, it appeared that Dean the Dog was the new Senate Majority Leader and Pedro Espada the new senate President Pro tempore, one heartbeat from the Governorship. .
For the first time in months, folks breathed a sigh of relief that David Paterson was the Governor.
Smith called the vote illegal and said he would be filing a lawsuit. But the case was really dependent upon a law which was outside of the Court's jurisdiction ; the immutable law of mathematics which states unequivocally that 32 is greater than 30.
All the rest was mere dicta. Unless one was willing to permanently shut down the Senate, eventually there was going to be a vote that was indisputably legal.
As I noted at the time, better Smith should try to persuade two Senators than four Judges.
Most disappointed by these events were the Two-Step’s former cohorts, Carl and the Passion (no longer pluralized), AKA Carl Kruger and Ruben Diaz, who, channeling Plunkitt in reverse, seen their opportunities and missed ‘em.
Following the coup, when every Democrat but the Two-Step was expected by their leadership (perhaps a misnomer) to exit Egypt and spend another forty years wandering in hopes of again finding the Promised Land, the Two-Step were for a time joined on the floor by their old cohorts, Carl and the Passion, now seemingly attempting to join the gang-bang in the hopes of procuring some sloppy seconds (Diaz apparently deciding upon civil union with Kruger, as long as he didn‘t have to marry him).
Later they were said to have joined Espada at his office for drinks and discussion; ever friendly, Pedro was said to even have invited Malcolm Smith to down a native cocktail called a Pinga Colonic.
One suspects that, at the time, the Republicans were considering being generous with the two extra potential recruits, since unless they are really looking for worse publicity than the inevitable presented by folks being escorted out of their office by State Troopers, they were probably going to follow the lead of the Dems in conserving funds by refraining from giving Monserrate a lulu until he resolved his issues at home.
However, it seemed equally likely that the Republicans were going to do the math and explain to Kruger that coffee is for closers, not order takers, and that the last to arrive at the table does not get to chair Finance, unless he’s the one who made the minyan.
Like Lazarus rising from the dead, the Albany Bi-Partisan Iron Triangle seemed to be back.
The Senate Republicans immediately celebrated by passing some one-house bills, a practice which the day before had been considered anachronistic (one can’t risk passing legislation for symbolic purposes, hoping it will die, when there’s a good chance an accident might occur and the other house will join you and make the damned thing a law).
The Democrats soon adopted a Party Line, and the Party Line was that this was a “Failed-Attempted-Coup.“
Nothing defined desperation better than the act of stealing one’s material from Chiang Kai-Shek, though if one is going to plagiarize delusional falsehoods, why not aspire for better? As an alternative, I suggested Voltaire:
“Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds.”
Locking the chambers and engaging in litigation and other manner of vamping was not a solution, but a tactic. I believe the tactic was best described as calling a “time out.”
But, eventually one was going to have to retake the field and produce 32 votes, or forfeit the crown and cash in that one way ticket to Palookaville.
Could the Governor help? If he couldn’t help himself, how can he help Malcolm?
Could Shelly help?
Did he really want to?
Life might have been simpler with an opposite number with a proven record of delivery; especially one who might once again allow Shelly to pass one-house bills to please the unions, without actually busting the budget by allowing them to become law (then again, Dean the Dog seemed most likely to try solidifying his power by demonstrating to the unions he could deliver more votes for a veto override than could Malcolm).
What if it the Democrats were right and the “Coup” was not legal? Unless one could manage to come up with 32 votes, the Republicans would eventually take over anyway.
I interpreted the Democrats’ talk of a lawsuit as nothing more than an effort to buy some time while they tried to get their majority back by any means necessary. I mean, except for stopping the clock, what was the point in overturning the results of a vote and obtaining a do-over when it would only lead to reliving again the agony of defeat?
Malcolm Smith didn’t look Egyptian, but he seemed to be in Da-Nile. His party line was that there never was a vote and therefore nothing to overturn. Let the Republicans file the lawsuit. What were the Democrats really thinking?
Democrats believed they could re-obtain the vote of Hiram Monserrate, a man with many of the qualities of a dog, but not the crucial one of loyalty. During the earlier adventures of Carl and the Passions, Hiram had first jumped ship on his colleagues in the Senate Democratic conference, and then on his fellow deserters, combining the most notable qualities of Benedict Arnold and The Flying Wallendas.
Now Malcolm Smith was hoping that after first causing his colleagues to bleed profusely, Hiram would now be decent enough to get them the necessary attention they require to restore themselves to good health.
By contrast, the Sen Dems believed that no matter how loudly Pedro Espada protested that he occupied a home in the Democrats' humble philosophical turf, they were sure that Espada's real beliefs, such as they were, actually resided at a tonier address.
But, re-obtaining Hiram would only gets them to 31, which would leave the Senate tied. What good would that do?
This was where a Court case to either void the “vote” as illegal, or to mandate that its results be recognized, came in. If the Democrats were capable of getting to 32, whether or not the vote was legal would not matter all that much–with 32 votes they could overturn the “vote” any time they wanted.
But with 31 votes, neither party could pass a resolution to force a change of power. As such, whoever held the Majority would continue to do so until someone else obtained 32 votes. Hence the importance to the Democrats of the “vote” not being judicially recognized, and then getting to 31.
But what good would that really do? With 31 votes, one could not pass any legislation. It would be a hollow victory indeed.
Except in one aspect.
If the status quo (or if you were a Republican, the status quo ante) was maintained, then all the staff, all the plush offices, all the lulus, all the internal resources would remain as they were.
In the words of the immortal Governor William J. Le Petomane, “We've got to protect our phony baloney jobs, gentlemen. We must do something about this, immediately.”
The Dems had the moral high ground; while the choice of whether the space a heartbeat away from the Governorship was occupied on the one hand by Malcolm Smith, or on the other by Pedro Espada was admittedly not an enticing one, but it was still a distinction with a difference. Even the New York Post recognized this.
By the ninth day of Albany’s Time of Troubles and things had entered into the game show phase.
Democrats put forth a power-sharing agreement, while Republicans insisted upon the bigger share. Meanwhile, it seemed possible that if they did not decide who was in charge among themselves, a judge might decide it for them.
Democrats were saying “Let’s Make a Deal,” while Republican responded, “Monty, I’d rather see what’s behind door number three.”
The big surprise was the unexpected willingness of the Democratic Conference, including Leader in Name Only Malcolm Smith, to behave like grown-ups.
In fairness, in Smith’s case, this might be because it was the only opportunity he had to hold on to even the appearance of power. He was clearly about to be dumped by his own party; if the Democrats were relegated to Minority status, their need to keep Smith as Leader in even name went out the window.
With only 31 votes, the Democrats would return to operational control, but, to the extent they ever had it, they would lose the power to pass legislation. Moreover, they would also lose the power to change the Senate’s leadership. To elect someone other than Malcolm Smith as President Pro Tempore required 32 votes, and they did not have them. Perhaps they could find a way, within their Conference, to bifurcate Smith’s job, but without taking a floor vote. Nonetheless, Malcolm Smith remained the man who remained a heartbeat away. Perhaps this consolation prize would allow him to save enough face to go quietly from the Party Leadership.
Power sharing looked more and more like the way to go.
I think it was Macbeth who said that to be thus is nothing unless one is safely thus. The Democrats had proof that a 32-30 majority dependent unreliable scoundrels was not working for them.
Would it really work for Dean Skelos either?
This wasn’t rocket science. A Court might decide Pedro Espada was President Pro Tempore, or it might decide that Malcolm Smith was. But, that would only decide which side had a leg up in either negotiating a power sharing agreement, or in facilitating further raids on enemy turf.
I am not one of those Goo-Goos who hails the wonders of bi-partisanship, which, in practice, tends to resemble more closely the working of the Board of Elections than it does the Kean Commission. Despite the protestations, bi-partisanship is not an ends; it is a means. And, most of the time, it is a means for the accomplishment of no good. The June 8th coup attempt is a good example of what bi-partisanship usually means in real life.
And while I've always believed that wildly disproportionate allocations of budget items and member staff allotments are just plain wrong, I actually believe that subjecting the Senate Republicans to a year of them was actually good behavior modification therapy.
But it wasn’t working, and courts could not end the madness. Seemingly, only the leadership of both parties could end the madness. And they could do so only by acting as if they believed that “leadership” was a public trust rather than just a title.
It had been done before elsewhere. In January of 2002, a tie in the New Jersey State Senate had resulted in a detailed power sharing plan similar to the one which was now being proposed by the NYS Senate Democrats. The details even covered division of a one week period as Acting Governor caused by a constitutional quirk (which resulted in Dick Codey’s first stint as Jersey’s Permanent Acting Governor).
Power sharing seemed the only possible resolution that would conclude the matter rather than prolonging it. Otherwise, victory for whoever won in Court seemed likely to be an empty one; a payroll, but no ability to pass any legislation.
It would be all prize and no crackerjacks.
Of course, for many in Albany, that would have sufficed nicely.
The “Coup” had left the Senate with 32 votes for Republican control, provided they managed to hold a legal meeting; meanwhile, the Democrats scrambled to get Monserrate back before that occurred. While I outlined the various scenarios of what would happen if they did or did not accomplish that task, I did not anticipate the one possibility which actually occurred: that the courts would abstain, leaving State government paralyzed for an entire month.
As noted, the obvious answer seemed to be a power sharing agreement, but the response of the Senate Republicans to Democratic overtures was : “You can’t get there from here.”
The Republicans believed they had the law on their side. While it was true that in a 31-31 deadlock, no one could pass a bill, the more important matter (to the Senators, at least) was who controlled the Senate Payroll. Control of the payroll rested in the hands of the last party to elect a President Pro Tempore. While each side claimed ownership, it was clear that the Democrats smelled the handwriting on the wall, while the Republican position was “we’ll split power any way you want, as long as we get to be in charge.”
To give Skelos the benefit of the doubt, he was boxed in by his own situation; the appearance of his willingness to negotiate the relinquishment of Espada’s position of power was likely to cost him Espada, who, as Skelos knew, had twice jumped shipped upon the party in which he was enrolled and was surely capable of doing something similar to him.
Moreover, the fragmented nature of the Senate Democrats offered Skelos many opportunities to put together a more truly bi-partisan coalition. Not only was there the mercurial Monserrate, but his other remaining amigos as well.
And those were not the only possibilities. Darrel Aubertine wanted “Jobs for Power,” and Skelos wanted power for the jobs–surely, an accommodation could be reached, but then the plug got pulled.
Next, Skelos tried pulling Tom Duane’s plug, dangling the promise of a vote on same-sex marriage in exchange for a vote for a political one. Perhaps Skelos would have succeeded had he only promised Duane “the votes,” instead of just “a vote.” But Skelos seemingly did not understand that a man not named Pedro Espada may not be comfortable betraying a lifetime of friends and principles in exchange for merely getting a floor vote he was destined to lose. Meanwhile, a New York Magazine article from the time, showed Espada, ostensibly a supporter of same-sex marriage when’s he‘s not trying to put it to a referendum, using the threat of same sex marriage to attempt to lure Diaz to the Republican side.
We also know that Dan Squadron was seen late nights in a hotel bar in an animated discussion with the Mayor’s consiglieri, Kevin Sheekey, and Steve Pigeon, though we can only guess whether it was by accident or design.
Other Skelos overtures, and we know of at least one (to Bill Stachowski), appear to have been summarily rejected (but we will never know how many were made to whom, under what circumstances, with how much negotiation).
I am not condemning Duane, Aubertine and Squadron (well, maybe just a little),—by my count, if one adds them to Espada's old "Gang of Four” (plus Marty Dilan and John Sampson, with whom they were in close contact) and the two groups of Seven putting forth their own power-sharing plans: “The Progressives” (Schneiderman, Squadron, Liz Krueger, Parker, Adams, Oppenheimer, and Breslin) and “The Palefaces” (Klein, Savino, Foley, Johnson, Stachowski, Valesky and Aubertine), there were at least 21 out of 32 Senate Democrats who, at one time or another, were conducting non-officially sanctioned negotiations (or trying to) with either the Republicans or Epsada, or were themselves Espada.
We know for a fact that the Palefaces nearly got the job done.
It is possible that Sampson, the closest approximation the Democrats had at that point to a leader, had wisely decided to let a thousand flowers bloom in the hopes that if he threw enough of them at the wall, one would stick? .
However, it seems just as likely that individual and self-dealing may also have been involved in at least some of these activities (YA THINK?).
Whether the Republicans were actually correct about their having pulled off the Coup in legal manner was a matter that was never been resolved by the Courts, and as a results of the actions taken a month later, it never will be.
Ironically, it was the most disloyal Democrats who came up with the plan which most maximized the Party’s power. Only the plan put forth by the Amigos (and facilitated by their more loyal late arriving allies) left the power of the Senate solely in the hands of the Democrats.
And ironically, it was Skelos, by refusing to consider any power-sharing plan that actually shared power, who forced this to occur. Strangely, at the end, Skelos appeared to have finally woken up to the fact that “Sneaky Pete” Espada was about to do unto him as he did unto others; as a result, Skelos nearly concluded a deal with the Palefaces.
Not surprisingly, this late effort by a mouse (or more accurately a dog) to finally be a man, went the way of most best laid plans, and actually brought to fruition Skelos‘ worst case nightmare.
In the end, the Palefaces and Progressives could have stopped this if they wanted. In fact, it would have only taken one of them. But they were tired, and tired of the abuse from the press. At a certain point it was not unreasonable for each of them to conclude that a bad plan was far, far better for the State than no plan at all, especially if it allowed one to keep their lulu.
Instead of bifurcating the leadership, the Senate Dems trifurcated it.
To preserve his 32nd vote, and to avoid some legal pitfalls, Malcolm Smith would remain President Pro Tempore, a heartbeat a way, with its robes, crown and ministerial and not so ministerial powers.
Pedro would get the Majority Leader’s title, but not its powers (such that they were), including more money, and other Perks, including Steve Pigeon as the new and well paid counsel to the Majority Leader.
John Sampson would be the actual leader of the Majority in all but name (and sometimes in all but power).
Victory was ours, even if Pyrrhic.
Once more such victory and we are undone.
Truly Barnum was right, though in this case, the winner of the Linda Lovelace award was Dean “The Dog” Skelos, who spent a month tying New York’ State government in knots for the sole purpose of helping Pedro “The Perro” Espada to leverage his position within the Democratic Conference.
And Pedro wouldn’t even kiss Dean afterwards. Given the source, maybe Skelos should have count his blessings (he’d already miscounted his votes).
Even though the Majority Leader’s Counsel was now Tom Golisano’s butt-boy, Eerie Steve from Erie, it is the Senate Democratic Conference who were the Pigeons, and the people of New York who were getting Buffaloed.
We were now back to where we’d been a month before, only worse, with the Senate Democratic Conference still held hostage by a group of degenerate madmen who were now more powerful than ever. At any point, any one member can still the plug, and they still do, while those members of the Conference who actually are committed to some form of improvement for State Government are forced to pray for indictments and convictions of their colleagues, whether they’ve actually violated the penal code or not.
Under such circumstances, the only sane solution seemed to be sharing power–and each side agreed to do so; the only problem was that each side agreed to share power with Pedro Espada rather than each other.
Pedro Espada leading the Majority. To say the tale is wagging the dog would be a felicitous choice of words, given the meaning of Skelos in Greek, but for two reasons.
The first is that Skelos and his Republican colleagues were no longer being wagged, though everyone else still was.
More importantly, to say the "tail" was wagging the dog is actually a couple of inches off.
The dog was now being wagged by what excretes from the orifice just below the tail.
As strong as was my condemnation of the manner in which the Senate squall was resolved, I’m not about to assert that any other possible resolution, however superior, was easily evolved, or even possible. My objections to the deal still stand—it is that rare combination of being both dreamily impractical and morally reprehensible.
It is time to make sure that those responsible for this squalid deal’s necessity be held to account, and that justice be done, and to insure that this infamita is never repeated.
As Michael Corleone might say, the time has come to answer for Santino.
In our next episode, Gatemouth will man the poll booth and administer the retaliatory endorsements.